Doña Laura, having taken refuge, as well as she was able, under an enramada,[1] exposed to the wind, and crouched sorrowfully before a dying fire, was preparing, with the aid of Phoebe, the evening meal. In fact, everything presented an aspect of ruin and desolation. "Mon Dieu! What does all this mean?" cried he with grief. "It means," answered the marquis, bitterly, "that you were not wrong, Diogo." "But has there, then, been a fight during my absence?" "No; there has been a surprise; but come, Diogo, a moment with you privately, and I will explain what has happened." The captain followed him. When they were out of sight of the Brazilians, the marquis commenced his narrative. Two hours after the departure of Diogo, a shower of burning arrows had rained suddenly on the camp from all sides at once, and that in so desperate a way that at first the Brazilians did not know where to run, or in what manner to defend themselves. The fire had almost immediately burst out with such an intensity that it was impossible to extinguish it; a burning arrow having, unhappily, fallen in the waggon which contained the powder, the vehicle was blown up, killing and wounding several men. The Guaycurus had profited by the fright of the Brazilians, to attempt a furious assault, during which the remainder of the munitions had been almost wholly expended. Diogo sadly shook his head at this painful narrative; then he commenced his own, which his companion listened to with profound attention. When he had finished, there was a momentary pause. "What do you recommend?" at last asked the marquis. "The situation is almost desperate," decisively answered the captain. "The most prudent course, in my opinion, would be to try a sortie; to try and open a passage for ourselves." "Yes," murmured the marquis, aside, "perhaps that would be better; but I wish to wait a bit. I have dispatched a scout to gain information about the enemy." "You alone are master," answered Diogo, who had heard him; "but every minute that passes takes away from us, believe me, several days of our existence." "Perhaps," violently cried the marquis, stamping with anger; "but we do not know all yet. Can I not try to join Don Joachim Terraira?" "Certainly, you can, your Excellency." "Well!" cried he, with joy. "Well! You will only succeed in causing us all to be massacred the quicker--that is all." After having uttered these words, the captain turned his back on the marquis, and rejoined his companions. [1] kind of tent made of branches. CHAPTER XIV. DISASTER. The night was tranquil. The Brazilians passed it in sleep. Diogo alone watched over the common safety. About two hours before sunrise the scout who had been dispatched by the marquis returned to the camp. He was the bearer of strange news. The Indians had disappeared. Diogo listened attentively to the report brought by the man. Then turning towards the marquis, who had also passed the night without closing his eyes--